Chapter 12 New Haven, Same Old Crap
Why?!
Why do bad things happen to good people?!
WHAT DID I DO TO DESERVE THIS?!
"I knew you'd come back for me! I just knew it!" Claptrap cheered joyously, his blue optical shining a brighter blue in happiness. All because he thought I came here for him, thus validating his existence.
It made me feel so… remorseful.
We shouldn't have come here.
We should have just left when we saw the blockade, but I thought, 'nah, if this is the worst the universe can throw at me, then I'm fine.'
Oh, what a fool I was. Not as big a fool as Claptrap, though. It's not a very high bar, but still, would you look at that idiot? He's dancing! Or trying to, by some strange, fowl robot edition, which ironically didn't include doing the robot..
He doesn't even have feet! It's just a sad, lonely little wheel, playing by itself. Kind of like Claptrap. And I'm no expert, but his technique… yikes! A cripple could dance better than that. At least a wheelchair has two wheels.
Lilith grabbed my arm, harshly. Pulling me by my metallic chin to look her in the eyes. "Make. It. STOP!" Couldn't agree more.
My hand slowly inches towards my hip, in an effort to reach my pistol. Ready to blast the Claptrap vocal's system into little bitty pieces of annoyance. "Don't." Angel warns me firmly. Ironically in the same tone of voice I used when she was doing something she knew she wasn't supposed to.
I groan inwardly (and probably, outwardly) and rely on my diplomacy to end the machine's madness. "Hey, buddy." I struggled to stay polite while speaking to the mechanical monstrosity.
"Yes, friend." Claptrap says the name, with a reverent tone. It makes my spine shudder. Is this a fear of friendship, or a disgust of Claptrap…
It's Claptrap. Definitely disgust. "We're, ugh, we are- so happy- to see you. But we need you to focus, okay? And- would you please STOP DANCING!"
Ah, my bad, lost a little bit of my cool there. Claptrap doesn't seem to mind, he made a sort of shrug movement that was oddly compatible with human shrugging. That's weird, right? He doesn't even have shoulders, he can't just- forget it. "Okay!"
He is too cheerful to be a survivor on Pandora. Or any other planet for that matter. The only protection the hunk of scrap carried to defend himself is Plot Armor. Sadly, I have no weapon that can pass the metaphysical barriers.
"Great. Now then, we're," I gestured to the four vault hunters, and specifically didn't include the robotic rakk bait. "Looking for Tannis, so unless you know where she is-"
"Tannis!" Claptrap audibly gasped, his crane like hands moving to his box like face.
I set myself up for that, didn't I? "You do know where she is. Don't you?" I asked despondent, somehow both enraged and depressed, followed by a heaping of disappointment.
"What? No!" Is it weird that I'm relieved by bad news? It's strange, but somehow I feel… kind of happy. "Pierce does! She was telling me about Dr. Tannis the other day! Something about sending me to her for spare parts?" I like her already. "I can take you to her!"
Damn. My happy feeling's gone. "Sure, Claptrap. That would be… wonderful." I manage to grit the words out, but they leave an awful taste in my mouth. Like rotten eggs that were dunked in spoiled milk, chased down with an unhealthy dose of apple vinegar.
In case it wasn't obvious, I really don't like Claptrap. "Great! Follow me!" Thankfully, Claptrap isn't the most perceptive guy. Do you think it has something to do with him technically not having any eyes?
Of course, we actually did follow him, so who's to say our perception isn't a bit shotty too? Halfway through our trip, Roland the Tactical decided the best way to get information was to interrogate Claptrap the Malfunctioning… Yeah, I don't know what his train of logic was either.
"What can you tell us about Pierce?" Great, I repeat, great question, Roland. But you are asking literally the worst person around.
"Well, she's ugly." Case in point. "But you can't tell her she's ugly." Oh, really? "She's very sensitive about her looks." One day, I am going to reprogram the entire Claptrap line. At the very least, I'll add a mute button.
"Noted." Roland spoke in a (I'm fairly certain) sarcastic tone. Then again, he's almost as bad with social cues as Claptrap, so maybe not? "How about how she leads? What are her methods? Are there any policies we should know about?"
"Hmmm, well she doesn't like skags." Claptrap offered unhelpfully. Because seriously, who does? "They kind of mauled her face." Ah, right. I remember that. The original Jack actually made fun of her for that.
Hopefully, I'll leave a better impression… that doesn't pierce her skull. Shit. I made a pun, didn't I?
Roland and his new annoying sidekick chatted away, while I and the rest of our gang committed mental suicide. Lilith scrunches her eyes as if suffering a migraine, Mordecai rubs his like he just took a hit from Brick, Brick looks pretty tempted to hit something, and Bloodwing…
She's flying above and beyond the reach of the future robotic overlord's voice. I envy that bird.
Next time around, I want to be reincarnated as a bird. Or maybe a bear. Wolf would be cool too. Decisions are hard, fuck off.
Not as hard as hearing Claptrap's voice, though. This is so far the biggest challenge I've faced since coming to a world that's actively trying to murder me in the most horrifying ways possible. 'Death by annoying, mechanical, self-proclaimed best friend'.
Got to give Pandora points for creativity.
AND effectiveness. If I can't get a distraction within the next five minutes… I can't be held responsible for- "Hey, guys! What y'all doing here?!" Not quite what I meant, but fuck it, I'll take it.
"Hey Scooter!" I greeted the redneck mechanic joyously, without the barest hint of desperation. Honest. "We're looking for Tannis, have you seen here?!"
"Nah." Goddammit Scooter.
"Hey, could we maybe get a few repairs for the Technical?" Lilith butted in eagerly. I see where she's going with this. I love this girl!
"Well, sure! What's wrong with it?" Scooter asked happily, after all we were (read: I'm) going to have to pay him.
"Jack drove it through a psycho." Brick offered helpfully, or at least what he thinks is helpful. At least he's trying, it's probably a struggle for the man to think. You can't flex your brain.
"...When you say, "drove it through a psycho", what exactly do you-"
"Details aren't important." I interrupted the mechanic, fixing a small and quick glare onto Brick. "The point is you can fit it. Right?"
"Umm, I guess." Scooter scratched his face, leaving behind yet another oil stain, as he shrugged indifferently. "Call it up in the garage, and I'll get started."
"Great!" My happiness is restored! "Me, Lilith, and Brick will help you out. The rest of you go find Pierce." Lilith and Brick gave me a relieved smile, Roland an accepting nod, and Mordecai gave what I assumed to be a panic look.
"Actually, amigo," Mordecai started, looking nervously back and forth between Claptrap and me. "Maybe I should go with you?" Oh, no. I hold grudges Senor Sniper, consider us even.
"Sorry," I wasn't though. "But you need to help out Roland in case Claptrap's just stringing us along. Bloodwing's the only one who can fly high enough to find Pierce."
Well, Angel could check a satellite too, I guess. But I already have her busy looking for the other Vault Key fragments in case this turns out to be a bust. Plus, this is more fun for me. Also, I'm kinda genuine. I trust Claptrap as far as I can throw him.
And believe me, that rolling piles of scrap is deceptively heavy.
"Are you sure I can't-" Mordecai looks desperate, or at least his body language does. On the bright side, now I can tell how he feels! Well, the bright side for me anyway.
"Yup!" I interrupt the man's pleading, taking far too much joy in the process. "We really need to get going, faster we're in the garage, faster we fix our wheels, and that means the faster we find Tannis! Sooo, gotta go, bye!"
I could hear Mordecai groan and whine as we took off. He might've followed us anyway if Roland didn't stop him. I'm still not sure if it was because my argument was sound and logical, or because the soldier boy didn't want to suffer alone.
Probably a bit of both, huh?
…
Scooter's garage is… cleaner than I expected.
And no, I don't mean it's sparkling or spotless, the place was more cluttered than Claptrap's CPU. I was thinking more PG clean, you know?
I'm not saying he has a filthy mind. Or that having incestuous thoughts, having been raised by a horny and open milf of a homicidal mom, and having lived on Pandora of all planets for his entire life, guarantees that he would be batshit crazy. Although, now that I'm saying it out loud, that might actually be true…
Look, the guy asked you to pick up porno mags in the second game, okay. That's not a thing normal people do. That's as good as admitting you don't get laid. Without even having enough self-esteem to use the internet!
Or, Echo-net. Whatever.
Overall, though, the garage was lacking anything that might be labeled obscene by the general public. I was naturally, and justifiably suspicious.
I mean, don't get me wrong, I like the guy I do. He's resourceful, comedic, gullible, and pretty handy when you need help fixing a rocket… Okay, that joke was a little dark, sorry. But regardless, the guy is super sketchy.
And again, I know, its Pandora, murder is the national pastime, but still, he does it a lot, like way more than normal people should. Seriously, this guy's a mechanic. Killing people shouldn't need to happen much in that line of work.
Although, technically speaking, I'm just a glorified salary man, and people have tried to kill me way more times than anyone's ever tried to kill Scooter. I'm probably not in a position to throw stones.
Well, there's only way to prove my little conspiracy theory. "Hey Scooter, are you doing something wrong?"
"Whaaat?! Pssh, nooo! Why would you think that?" Strong, solid argument, Scooter. I have no rebuttal. Oh, wait. Yes, I do. Because I'm not an idiot.
"Yeah, you're definitely acting suspicious." I squinted my eyes, in emphasis of my suspicious- ness. Have I mentioned that I need to expand my vocabulary?
"Mhhmph, that was a pretty sus statement." Lilith agreed, rubbing her non-metallic chin in thought. "What do you think, Brick?"
"I don't know what to believe anymore!" Brick shouted, collapsing to his knees in grief. Clutching his head, as he lacked the hair to do so, in anguish. That's Brick, big, strong, reliable Brick.
Again, that's what we call sarcasm.
Lilith and I took a minute to watch the monumental shell of a man cry out in despair, for what's admittedly just a hunch, before turning our attention to the redneck. "Okay, seriously. What's up?"
Scooter sighed. "Fine. I was working on some upgrades to y'all's Technical. I didn't tell you 'cause I wanted it to be a surprise! And so, I could give you hidden charges." The mechanic explained reluctantly, also he mumbled. What's up with that?!
"What was that last-"
"Oooh! Upgrades! Lemme see, lemme see!" Brick cheered instantly, sprigging to a height that would make Master Chief jealous. His bad mood seemingly forgotten. His manners were apparently also forgotten.
I swear, the next person to interrupt me… that's my size… and sex… and isn't more powerful than me is really gonna get it.
…
I'm never going to get that chance, am I?
Probably not. Not unless it's Claptrap, anyways- I am so happy right now. Slight problem though, where am I going to hide all those Claptrap corpses from Angel? You know what, let's just put a pin in that.
After all, I should see some of the 'upgrades' myself. If I let Brick pick then I just know Mad Max is gonna sue us. Or maybe Mad Moxxi. Or maybe she won't? Scooter is her kid. So, it should be fine, unless they're in on it together-
Right. Still gonna need to investigate that. Later though. I need to look over some designs.
…
They were admittedly, pretty fucking badass upgrades.
I wish there weren't so many freaking micro payments. But what's done is done. At least I managed to make a few mental notes about some of my designs for the Handsome Jackpot. One of them being 'Invite Scooter'.
Because he's Moxxi's, my co-founders, kid. I'm reuniting a family, for a holiday vacation. Yup. No ulterior motives here. That's my story and I'm sticking to it.
And if they accidentally happen to get charged a few minor, inconvenient charges, well maybe that's just Karma. Or Claptrap. Claptrap's an excellent fall guy. Super easy to push him over. Fun too.
So anyways, you may be wondering what exactly are the upgrades provided to us by Pandora's most infamous mechanic (fight me Ellie). Well, that my dear conscious, is a secret. Don't worry! It's a good one.
Speaking of good news! Roland and his side of the D&D party found Pierce, you know, the tragically scarred, de facto leader of New Haven? Oh! Right, we shouldn't mention the scars. To her face. That would be rude.
We'll just have to gossip about it behind her back, like civilized people.
As my half of the gang, consisting of Brick, Lilith, and me, the cool kids, walked up the steps leading into the (mayor/sheriff/corporate overlord?)'s office, I could make out the sound of a monstrous digitized voice.
"And Mr. Jack sent me to find you! Because he's on a super-secret mission to-" Okay, maybe 'monstrous' is giving him too much credit. But that voice, it's worse than nails on a chalkboard, I swear.
"Someone shut him up before I shoot him." Helena Pierce, administrator of New Haven, and former Dahl employee, hence she is not on my shit list. She's already threatened Claptrap, so actually she's on my nice list.
I, of course, did nothing. I was perfectly okay with Claptrap getting shot, and as long as it wasn't me, Angel can't be peeved about it. Win-Win! Sadly, Roland decided to interrupt the robot who was still. Fucking. Talking.
Incidentally saving Claptrap's life in the process. Congrats Roland, you're now a few points off my nice list. "We need your help." Roland, blunt, straight to the point, still kind of vague. Classic.
"I gathered that." Pierce replied in her snarky British accent. At least I think it's British. Real talk, it's pretty hard for me to tell the difference between Australian accents and British accents when it comes to women. Not really sure why.
"We're looking for Tannis." I elaborate briefly, crossing my arms. It's a good pose for me. Really brings attention to my muscular arms.
"Tannis? You and every corporation on Pandora." Pierce scoffed, likely having noticed my Hyperion logo. Why'd I let my tailors stitch that in?
"Yeeaaah, but we're the good guys!" I emphasized, waving my arms out expectantly at my backup. They didn't even try to pose heroically. Why am I even paying them? The people I hire keep letting me down, mam. It just breaks the heart.
Pierce snorted. "Atlas said the same thing. Next thing I know, they're blockading my settlement. Confiscating our weapons, our rations, and keeping us trapped in the town we made to protect ourselves."
"I could get rid of them." I offered temptingly. Smirking just a bit when I saw her eyes flash wide open. Actually, it looked pretty freaky. I swear, Two-Face doesn't have it as bad as this chick… alright it's not that bad. But it is bad.
This time, t'was Pierce who crossed her arms together, giving me a glare worthy of someone three times Brick's height. "How?"
"Let me make a call."
…
Corporal Reiss had gotten some pretty strange orders before.
He's been ordered to spy on his commanders, he's been ordered to scrub the latrines with a q tip, he was once ordered to stand guard outside a male strip club.
So as far as strange orders go, Reiss was no stranger to them.
But even he had to admit. These orders were a bit… unorthodox. "Repeat, Commandant?"
"I said you are to depart New Haven immediately. Do you copy, Corporal?" Yup, he heard her right. Still didn't make a lick of damn sense.
"I copy, Commandant. It's just… why?" Mind you, he didn't dislike the orders, he was just deeply confused by them. They were ordered to keep New Haven in line, why leave?
Steele paused a moment before to his surprise, she actually answered. "There has been a large force of bandits moving towards the Headstone Mine. I am uncertain as to why, but if we allow these dam- ahem, darn bandits to act, there is no telling the casualties we may suffer."
So, they were finally getting sent to deal with the bandits, huh? Well it's about damn time. "Understood Commandant. Bravo Squad moving out."
…
"How was that?" Angel asked, her voice still mixed with Steeles. She wasn't smug, she wasn't cocky, but she did seem exceptionally proud. A well-earned pride, at that.
"Nice work, Angel!" And as her father, and a man very pleased to find competent help, I was more than happy to feed her ego.
"It was impressive." Pierce admitted, at least a nugget of respect was audible in her voice.
"Sooo?"
Pierce sighed, but she smiled, nonetheless. "Alright you were true to your word. I'll return the favor."
Freaking Finally!
It's time to get some fragments… and maybe test a few upgrades along the way.
…
But not in this chapter… this chapter's done! I think I'll keep this Author's Note short for this chapter. Had my first troll review recently, and like many trolls, their complaints were as ineloquent as they were nonsensical. Meaning it was barely legible and made no sense.
Don't get me wrong, I NEVER want to discourage reviewers, if you have any comments or concerns about one of my stories, I'm all ears. But if you're just going to add my review count to bitch about my story, then why are you even reading it?
In other news, this fic now has over 100 Reviews! Yay!
Anyways, let's answer the reviews.
S0UL Survivor: Thank you, I will. Also, I don't take commissions, but if you have a request for me, and I find it interesting and doable, then by all means let me hear it in the reviews!
Ascandas: Yup. People are always prepared for smart plans. Stupid ones are easily overlooked.
Dlmauricio19: Thank you, and don't feel too bad, he'll get to (kinda) kill Claptrap in the robolution.
Adam110902: Thanks!
BohemianRhapsody: Roland only said the cowboy lines. I thought I mentioned it was in monotone. Also, we should all learn from Jack's example: keep your eyes and mind on the road. Which is actually based on something that happened to me one day when I was driving. Only instead of a bandit, it was a fire hydrant. Good times…
And yes, I get that it was early on, but they had a comic remake, and it still never elaborated. Also, good job on guessing how scenarios are going to play out, you'll get to see some of the 'upgrades' next chapter.
As for Old Haven, you are correct, they're definitely still stationed there. I just wanted to add a few more story elements into the game. The plot just feels a little too wooden for me.
TECH NOIR: Wish granted.
To the troll: Fuck off… also your complaints are bullshit. Chapter 2, where you complained about 'cannon hugging', literally zero percent of that chapter or the following chapter for that matter, took place in any of the games or comics. And frankly, even if I dofollow along the plot line, so what? It's fanfiction. If you want something original, buy a book.
Yes, there were time skips. I wanted to get to the action, and provide a good story with it, and I had already spent three chapter building to that point. And Jack wasn't there at all to begin with, they had no idea about the Destroyer or what was in the Vault, and Angel was a prisoner. So, there were a lot of changes. Also, I didn't write any plot holes. You said plot hope, which btw means nothing. Also, it's not a smut fanfic. I had it rated M for profanity, gore, and violence.
There was no time skip in Chapter 6, or rather the 'skip' was like five minutes. And I know I referenced that he wore the masks in previous chapters, repeatedly. Starting from Chapter 1 when he got the mask. So, thanks for admitting that you've just been skimming. I know he got it in The Pre Sequel (wow you really fucked up spelling six letters), but for the sake of plot and personal interest, I'm saying the self-insert got it when Jack died, and the new Jack got reincarnated into dead Jack's body.
…
Okay, I've vented, I'm good.
People, seriously, I don't mind if there are elements of my story you don't like, that's fine. Tell me about it, sure. But don't throw a bitch fit about spilt milk on my reviews, okay?
I love taking the time to write these chapters, please don't waste yours on typing reviews that serve no other purpose than to hurt a poor author's feelings.
Until Next Time, Please Follow, Favorite, and Review (Something nicer, please)